A couple of years ago—though in the realm of parenting, that feels like a lifetime—my partner Mark and I had a cherished weekend tradition. Every Sunday, we would hire a babysitter to care for our then 3-year-old daughter, Lily, from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. During this time, we would enjoy brunch, stroll through our neighborhood in Brooklyn, and take our dog to play fetch. Most importantly, we used those hours to reconnect after a week filled with work and family obligations.
This three-hour window was essentially a prelude to what we anticipated would be an afternoon of intimacy in the bedroom—something we both greatly looked forward to. Those moments were pure bliss—until the inevitable happened and Lily stopped napping, which put an end to our routine.
Fast forward a few years. Lily is now 5 and attending kindergarten at our local public school. Mark and I are both freelancing from home, trying to maximize productivity before her 2:45 p.m. dismissal, which means one of us must take care of her after school. Our budget is tight, but we cherish the quality time we have with Lily—when school is in session. However, during breaks, our plans take a hit.
Last April, as Lily’s spring break approached, we felt the familiar dread that many working parents experience—especially when they cannot afford vacations or extra childcare. The thought of a whole week with Lily at home was daunting.
As we scrambled to arrange playdates and find suitable films for her on streaming services, we received an email from her school announcing a spring break camp. The excitement among the parents in Lily’s class was palpable, with discussions about which days to enroll their children. “Madison’s doing Arts & Crafts Wednesday and Bowling Thursday!” chimed in one mother. I decided we could manage to sign Lily up for two days.
She chose Arts & Crafts Wednesday—a day filled with creative activities, a trip to the local playground, and gardening in the school’s wonderful garden. However, when I registered, I found that Bowling Thursday was already full. I gladly paid $90 for Wednesday, feeling relieved that Lily would at least have one day of fun.
Then it hit me—Mark and I deserved a fun day too; it was spring break! I told him to clear his schedule for what I aptly named Foreplay Day Date and Intimacy Wednesday.
Spring break began, and after two days with Lily at home, we were excited for her camp. But upon arrival at the school, we realized something felt amiss. Although the main entrance was open, there were no signs indicating where the camp was located.
Mark chuckled, “Do you think the camp is at a different location?”
“It can’t be,” I replied, as we spotted another father looking just as confused. Together, we followed the distant sounds to the cafeteria, where an unrecognizable woman handed us a clipboard to sign Lily in before walking away.
“Shouldn’t there be a counselor around?” Mark whispered.
“Maybe one of those adults in the back?” I suggested, eyeing the sparse adults who seemed indifferent to the kids already present.
In front of us were four self-directed activity stations: crayons and paper, sticks and marshmallows, Legos and dolls. I silently hoped this was just a temporary setup until the real activities began, with a counselor leading them outside for the promised gardening and art projects.
We put on a cheerful facade. “Lily! Look! Crayons and paper! Why don’t you try drawing?” I encouraged her. She sat down, somewhat disinterested. We hugged her goodbye, and no one even noticed when we left.
Once outside, I remarked, “Well, that was disheartening.”
Mark took my hand, reassuring me. “Lily will be fine.”
“You realize anyone could just walk in and take a child from that room without anyone noticing, right?”
“Honestly, we’ve sacrificed so much for her; she can handle a day like this. Trust me.”
With that, we let go of our guilt and officially began our day date. We strolled, had breakfast, returned home, popped open a bottle of prosecco we’d set aside for the occasion, and enjoyed our time together.
As with all childcare, time flew by, and before we knew it, it was time to pick up Lily. At least we now knew where to go.
Lily sprinted to us, exclaiming, “Mommy! Daddy!” We enveloped her in hugs. Before we left, she bid farewell to a friend, Emma, she’d made while playing.
Outside, I eagerly asked, “So, how was it?”
She took a dramatic breath. “It wasn’t that great.”
“Oh,” I replied, feeling deflated. “Why not?”
“Yeah,” Mark added, “you made a new friend.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t get to plant or do arts and crafts.”
“Did you at least go to the playground?”
“Yeah,” she replied, her enthusiasm waning. We crossed the street. “Honestly, it just felt like a really, really long day.”
A wave of post-coital guilt washed over me, and I contemplated sending a complaint email demanding a refund. However, by dinnertime, Lily had bounced back, and I thought the school, despite this hiccup, was still worth the investment.
Today marks the beginning of Lily’s summer break—eight weeks of freedom. This year, she’ll attend a camp for the entire month of July. It’s her first time, and I know she’ll love it—not just because it’s not in the school cafeteria, but also because we attended their open house, and it was fantastic.
Next April, when first-grade spring break arrives, Lily will still attend the school camp with a few adjustments:
- I’ll sign her up faster than ever.
- I’ll ensure she only participates in field trip days.
- I’ll buy two bottles of prosecco instead of just one.
In summary, while navigating the challenges of parenting and maintaining a relationship can sometimes lead to tough decisions, it’s essential to find a balance that works for the entire family. For more information on home insemination and related topics, you can explore resources like Intracervical Insemination and Cryobaby Home Insemination Kits. Additionally, Kindbody offers excellent insights that can help during your parenting journey.